


These Wars of Mine

by TheNovelNightingale



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Alternate Dimensions, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Post-Reaper War, Semi cannon, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) Spoilers, Temporary Amnesia, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNovelNightingale/pseuds/TheNovelNightingale
Summary: After the final push against the Reapers, Commander Shepard wakes up in an unfamiliar base in an oddly familiar galaxy with soldiers who share the same face. She was a member of the Republic Army fighting in the Clone Wars, reported M.I.A, reappearing out of thin air.Going back into the fight was one thing, but when two different lifetimes and their memories collide, she needs to find out if the sweat and tears- all she loved and lost- was ever real at all.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter One: Skyfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited August 12 with additional details and tweaked conversations.

She felt the bright, artificial lighting above boring into her eyelids before she even opened them. There was a noise, a voice in the distance. 

“I think she’s waking up.” 

Another voice, female, echoed from even further away, 

_“Wake up Commander.”_

There was no recollection of the last thing that happened, just colors and shapes that came and went, that she couldn’t remember no matter how hard she tried. Then she was suddenly tired, and did not want to do what the voices were saying. 

_“Shepard do you hear me get out of that bed now this facility is under attack.”_

Oh no, she can’t do this again. 

“Wasn’t she sedated? She shouldn’t be in this much pain.” 

_‘Shepard, your scars aren’t healed but-’_

“Her vitals are spiking!” 

She wanted the voices to just stop. There were so many, she didn’t want to do anything. Not yet, the darkness was calling her. Sleep sounded good, and there was no argument against it. But now instead of voices, she also heard a loud repetitive machine going off quicker and quicker. 

_Shiha_

“ _Kriff_ get the doctor here _now_.” 

“What’s happening?”

_Forgive the insubordination_

_You did good kid_

“Hold her down _hold her down_.” 

_I am the catalyst_

“You need to step out Sir.” 

_Control_

_Synthesis_

_Destroy_

Darkness. 

  
  


~̸̛̘̎~̴̩̰̌̏∆̴̪͋∎̶̡͇̓Ř̵̟1̷̜̍̃ㅫ̵̪̿β̷̟̃͒1̴̞̅⍢̸͚͛̌0̷̹̳͂̏1̵͇̲͗^̴̠͊%̵̧̹̈́^̷͇͆#̵̬̂0̴̪̃∎̶͎̰͊̃0̸̭̀1̶̖̓̾1̴̢̈́≠͈͑͛0̷̣̂̚1̶̰̅͘ͅΨ̶̪͝1̶̖̈́̽0̴͇̼͗̉#̶̰̻̐1̸̣̬̑/̶̨/̶̝͛͜*̴͎̄0̵̬͒0̶̻ㆈ̸̛͖̑1̴̞̥́̋1̴̩͖͒͒∎̵͍͒/̴̛̦̬̿0̸͓̑̑ð̷̠͚̄́1̵͓̏�̵̼̳̾̍�̸̭̏1̷̡̥̇1̷̜̚Σ̴̘̲̊̔0̵̖͗͠+̴̼̗̔͂*̵̲̑*̴̫̩̾̎[̵̯̱̈̓∎̷͈̩̈́∎̵̧̢̉φ̵̝̄0̶̪̀̓1̶̡0̶̦͘▍̸͕̙͑̊~̷̩̫́~̶̛̻

  
  
  
  


More voices, louder, angry. _Not working_ , something was wrong and it wasn't working. She had to get to the controls. She had to get up, but she didn’t remember why.

Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. Her body jerked upright before processing she did, the only indication was an aching pain all up and down her spine. Her legs flew off the table, bright lights all around her. Where was she? Where was she supposed to be? 

The controls…

But she was at the station again? Lazarus? How did she think that if it was happening? Why did her head hurt so much? 

The controls...to what? 

All she knew was basic instinctive fear that she had to move and move _now_. She was running out of time...right? It sounded right.

Her eyes adjusted just enough to see a mass barreling right at her. It’s arms outstretched and reaching. The word Husk whispered in the back of her mind, creating more adrenaline. The room around her became less fuzzy, but now much brighter. She was in a sanitized clinic of some sort. It definitely wasn’t a clinic she was used to. 

With the reserve energy left within she brought up a screaming leg and landed a swift kick in the thing’s center, throwing it across the room in a heap. She glanced down noticing the sudden lightness of her movements behind the intense pain; she was wearing a hospital gown. Her armor was missing. Her omni-Tool was gone. She had no comms.

She went for the door, her feet already off the ground in a sprint, almost running into a figure at the doorway. It was a man, who she roughly pushed away immediately to dash down the hallway. It was clean, too clean. A hospital? Was she injured?

Hell when _wasn’t_ she injured? 

The thought comically crossed her mind. There was shouting behind her, the only other noise was her harsh breathing and her feet slapping against the cold floor. 

An icy wash went over her. The station, it couldn’t be the station, could it? That was over two years ago, before- 

Something had happened, something horrible. A vague sense of colors and shapes, but she didn’t remember how-

A figure had run up to her during her thoughts, a man clannad in shining white armor. 

Cerberus. 

She growled, leaning forward and charging faster. The idiot didn't have a gun. It was too easy. With a small shaky leap she almost didn’t reach the wall to pounce off before launching herself above the man, her fist clenched in agony. She brought the fist down into its helmet, knocking him to the ground cold. 

A wheeze escaped her as she was low to the floor. She had to keep moving, to get away, then find out how to communicate. Regain contact with-

Who? Who was she talking to? 

She stood to run again but her muscles said no, her body crumbling to her knees. She swore to herself, forcing her muscles to obey back into a steady trot. More voices raised behind her. 

She coughed, her lungs screaming at her; her body was slowing against her command. She rounded another corner, her arm reaching for the wall for support. Her mind was racing, but her body was falling behind. She wasn’t going to make it any further. She had to run, to keep going; running on fumes like a promise made in desperation-

A heavy wet cough erupted, her other arm just barely able to get to her mouth, shaking her in every limb. Her vision was getting fuzzy again, the walls starting to spin. The voices were getting farther away, odd because her body hadn’t moved. Her knees met the floor again at some point, heartbeats pounding everywhere. 

Agents were running towards her, those cerberus bastards, what did they want now? What else could they possibly want now?

She sought for the damned logo on their persons to curse it personally, but couldn’t find it.

With them was another man, was it the same man she had pushed away? But he was behind her? They were bringing a stretcher that never met the ground. Accompanied by another... husk? A husk- wait. 

She was on her knees, hands limp at her sides, the air getting heavier and heavier. Her mouth agape to get more air. Her arm was damp and sticky from all the coughing. That thing wasn’t a husk, it was...an AI? 

No, AI are illegal, and there was only one- how did she know that? 

_Do your worst you bastards._

Hands were grabbing her, guiding her on her back. A mask on her face, and she let them, because she could no longer move, because her thoughts fled as quickly as they came. Only her eyes were working, and that would not last long. 

Someone else came to view as her vision darkened. Voices. So many voices. This man wasn’t cerberus. She knew. It struck her so suddenly in her fading state. She was unable to recall _how_ , but she knew. What caught her attention as she sank from reality was the color accented on his particular armor. 

Blue. What a lovely shade of blue. 

  
  


~̸̛̘̎~̴̩̰̌̏∆̴̪͋∎̶̡͇̓Ř̵̟1̷̜̍̃ㅫ̵̪̿β̷̟̃͒1̴̞̅⍢̸͚͛̌0̷̹̳͂̏1̵͇̲͗^̴̠͊%̵̧̹̈́^̷͇͆#̵̬̂0̴̪̃∎̶͎̰͊̃0̸̭̀1̶̖̓̾1̴̢̈́≠͈͑͛0̷̣̂̚1̶̰̅͘ͅΨ̶̪͝1̶̖̈́̽0̴͇̼͗̉#̶̰̻̐1̸̣̬̑/̶̨/̶̝͛͜*̴͎̄0̵̬͒0̶̻ㆈ̸̛͖̑1̴̞̥́̋1̴̩͖͒͒∎̵͍͒/̴̛̦̬̿0̸͓̑̑ð̷̠͚̄́1̵͓̏�̵̼̳̾̍�̸̭̏1̷̡̥̇1̷̜̚Σ̴̘̲̊̔0̵̖͗͠+̴̼̗̔͂*̵̲̑*̴̫̩̾̎[̵̯̱̈̓∎̷͈̩̈́∎̵̧̢̉φ̵̝̄0̶̪̀̓1̶̡0̶̦͘▍̸͕̙͑̊~̷̩̫́~̶̛̻

  
  


The second time she woke with a start, images and sounds long forgotten the second she opened her eyes. She was in the same room as before if she could guess. There were people in the room with her. Metallic footsteps at the right, she turned her head too swiftly for comfort, only to be faced by the thing she had attacked before. 

How she thought it was a husk was ridiculous. It was a synthetic body, like someone she knew, but was impossible, and yet…

“You’re safe. You’re fine.” One of the figures told her. She shifted on the medical bed, her wrists were cuffed to the bars along the side. She was restrained. 

Another look at the people in the room lowered her heart rate. The man she had pushed, then saw again, was there with an odd looking datapad. There were two of him- no- three, and the droid. The three men in the room all shared the same tan skinned face. Brothers? Triplets? That didn’t sound right. 

The most nagging instinct she had made the least sense; it was the one assuring her she was safe.

For now. 

“Where am I?” Her tongue was sandpaper in her mouth, another cough rising in her throat from the cracks of a large dessert. Her eyes darted to the one with his arms crossed, donning the blue accented armor. He looked worried. 

The other one answered for her, his armor had green accents, and both of them had those odd skirts on their waists. “You’re at Floodline, a Republic base in the Bonadan system.”

She forced her throat to work, the words coming out hoarse. “You tied me down.”

“You tried to escape.” 

_I thought you were someone else._ “Are you Cerberus?” 

The man frowned. “Cerberus? No. We’re with the Republic.” he sounded weary of his answer, as if it should be obvious. “Do you know your name?” 

_I'm Commander Shepard and this is my favorite store on-_

“Com-” She stopped herself before darting back between the three at the base of her bed. “-You first.” 

Oddly enough he gave in, “Commander Hex of the 19th platoon. I run this base.”

“Do you know who I am?” The question came out of actual curiosity, with no particular reason to back it. The man with green accents glanced to the one with blue, who unfolded his arms. 

“We think we do, we just aren’t sure. You’ve been reported M.I.A for a while.” 

“M.I.A?” her brain hurt with familiarity. A dozen things were on the tip of her tongue, right next to her bound hands, at the edge of the bed, above her head. She wasn’t in any danger, but she had no idea why. “I don’t- I don’t think I remember.” She couldn’t fool herself, something was so incredibly _wrong_. The first name that was on the tip of her tongue dried up and evaporated. 

The blue soldier took a small step closer, “You’re Irene Deshpar. First Lieutenant of the 501st battalion of the Republic. We called you Desh. Do you remember?” 

501st. The 501st has such a strong pull no one could mistake, not even for the woman who hadn’t thought of the number her whole life. Blue. 501st blue. Was that her team on Akuze? No, that was Toombs' team. He shot himself on Ontarom because of Cerberus, but these guys weren’t Cerberus, she’s never seen their armor in the Terminus system. But Floodline was in the Bonadan system, which was in the outer rim. Clones. Clones? This army, the Republic army, was made of clones, not just one, not the one that tried to take her identity, her ship-

She knew that armor because she saw it everyday since being rescued from a Seperatist attack at her hometown, something she hadn’t thought of while going after Saren, or the Collectors, or the-

Reapers. Separatists. Cerberus. Jedi. Spectres. Sith. Medi-Gel. The Force. 

501st blue. Vakarian blue. 

“Desh?” The voice had run away again, and her vision started to sink. Somewhere nearby a machine was beeping loudly, more voices shouting. Her body shuddered and twitched uncontrollably, her mouth agape to cry out but no noise came. The man accented in blue, she recognized him, the man of domino squad. 

_Fives_.

~̸̛̘̎~̴̩̰̌̏∆̴̪͋∎̶̡͇̓Ř̵̟1̷̜̍̃ㅫ̵̪̿β̷̟̃͒1̴̞̅⍢̸͚͛̌0̷̹̳͂̏1̵͇̲͗^̴̠͊%̵̧̹̈́^̷͇͆#̵̬̂0̴̪̃∎̶͎̰͊̃0̸̭̀1̶̖̓̾1̴̢̈́≠͈͑͛0̷̣̂̚1̶̰̅͘ͅΨ̶̪͝1̶̖̈́̽0̴͇̼͗̉#̶̰̻̐1̸̣̬̑/̶̨/̶̝͛͜*̴͎̄0̵̬͒0̶̻ㆈ̸̛͖̑1̴̞̥́̋1̴̩͖͒͒∎̵͍͒/̴̛̦̬̿0̸͓̑̑ð̷̠͚̄́1̵͓̏�̵̼̳̾̍�̸̭̏1̷̡̥̇1̷̜̚Σ̴̘̲̊̔0̵̖͗͠+̴̼̗̔͂*̵̲̑*̴̫̩̾̎[̵̯̱̈̓∎̷͈̩̈́∎̵̧̢̉φ̵̝̄0̶̪̀̓1̶̡0̶̦͘▍̸͕̙͑̊~̷̩̫́~̶̛̻

  
  


“What’s happening Doc? What’s wrong with her?” 

“Well her body went through hell, several times over. I’m not just talking about the surgeries from when we found her-”

“Bottom line please.” 

“ _Besides_ external repairs from the intensive burns, _internally_ It took twice as long to navigate from all the crap inside her. We can’t explain it.” 

“Systems report an unidentifiable system of synthetic nerves and enhancements in her body, automatically tending to the injuries she had before she was found.” 

“Is that causing the seizures?” 

“We thought so, but the evidence says otherwise, whatever this stuff is, it's helping her. Healing her. The brain activity is just- off the charts.” 

“Is it dangerous?” 

“From our initial scans, those- _robotics-_ in her saved her life, but she should go to the medical station for a thorough analysis.” 

The third time she woke up, she was still in the same place, a place she remembers far more clearly from years ago. She opened her eyes, groaning at the wake of fog settled over her bones. She wanted to throw up. 

“Sir, she’s waking up.” 

“Let’s try not to startle her again shall we?” A shadow fell over her, her vision went into focus to the man she watched die in a shuttle explosion. They were surrounded, their only exit meters away, but no one would try for it, but he did. 

Wait, that wasn’t him, this was his brother. She remembered now, this one had the tattoo. 

“Fives.” His eyes widened, followed by a small relieved smile, 

“You remember me?” 

“You still making garbage coffee?” Memories flooded, more comforting memories. They still had pain. Names scrolled in her mind. The war, this war she had fought, or been fighting, not just the war with the Reapers. 

Her brain started to hurt again and pushed that aside. One step at a time. The point was she knew Fives. She knew the 501st. 

“It’s gotten better, you just don’t have the taste for it.” 

“Good. I hate the taste of dirt.” Fives chuckled, bringing a nostalgic smile to her face. “What happened?” 

“Do you not remember?” She shook her head. Her brain files were a chaotic mess right now: a depiction of a room that a tornado had torn through. The soldier looked up and gave a nod on the other side of the room. She followed his gaze to watch the medical droid and medic trooper exit.

A short tense silence lingered as Fives watched after the staff, when he moved next it was to loom over her; she tensed on reflex as his hands reached out to unclasp the binders. He gave her the freedom to very slowly sit up on the uncomfortable bed. Her guts must be in all sorts of fun twists like a silly straw because it all still hurt. 

Then she saw her arms covered in miles of gauze. 

If Halloween came early, she was dressed the part. She followed the gauze up her arm as far as she could, lifting her tissue-gloved hand to her head. The tips of her numb fingers rubbed against more gauze on her forehead; further up she could hear more than feel it scratch against soft bristles. 

“They uh- had to cut it off.” He tried to make it sound lighter than it did, and by the way he refused to look at her when he said it- rather deciding to take the extra seconds to ease his way into the chair beside her- Desh could only imagine the cosmetic damage visually. Choosing to not ask for a mirror, her hands returned to her lap for minimal irritation. The less she moved, the less it hurt. Business. Answers. Fill in the many gaps. Fives met her gaze, one elbow resting on his leg, “You were on a lax mission. Things were a bit all over the place att he time and you had requested something to do during the wait.”

Familiarity. “Was it a...base inspection?” 

Brown eyes lit up, “Yeah. You got a small ship and went to do an inspection for us. Not too far away from the _Resolute_ , but a day or two out of range.” He scratched the hairline above his tattoo. “We didn’t hear from you. The base never saw you arrive. You just… disappeared.” 

“And now here I am.” The suspicion came out of her mouth freely. People don’t just disappear. A muscle in her chest spazzed, pinching a nerve tunneled in her arm that bloomed pain. A soft grunt was the only sound she could make, adjusting herself to shift the agony. 

She was afraid of the next question more than anything. “How long?” if she had proper skin healed on her body, it would already have goosebumps for an unexplainable dread with the concept of time. 

“A few months.” 

Months. Years. They were all swirling around each other. She was fighting the Reapers for- 

She was with the Alliance for- 

“Desh? You ok?” His words were laced with worry, even if he didn’t show it, but she didn’t mistake glances to the machines she was hooked up to. 

“I’m good. Sorry just- a lot going on in my brain. I remember, but not everything. And the mission: definitely not.” 

He sat up straight in the chair with a sort of relief. “Sure. Just take it easy; You’re on a lot of pain meds, and the head trauma really rattled the brain scans.” The corner of his mouth twitched in a small smile, “But then again you’ve always been an overthinker.”

No truer words have been spoken thus far. She smiled wearily. “So, what happens now?” 

He paused midway standing up from the chair. “I will inform the Generals I’m taking you to the nearest Republic medical station. The one here isn’t as equipped to deal with the damage you still have. Then we get your ass back to the _Resolute_.” His smile was real this time. “I’m sure the Captain will be glad to see you.” 

“Rex?” More memories crashed down on her. Captain. She was partially assigned to him, serving with: Skywalker. Tano. Kenobi. 

_In my book, experience outranks everything._

_Grey? I don’t know what to do with grey._

Gosh her brain hurt again. 

She closed her eyes, using the back of her useless hand to press against the throbbing above her eyebrow. “Are you my escort then?” 

He chuffed. “Not on purpose; I was called here once the I.D came back on you. Rex wanted to come himself but things have been...busy. He asked me to set out and see for myself. We thought you were dead.” 

_Our scanners are picking up false readings, they seem to think you’re...dead._

“I’m getting that everywhere. It’s a pain in the ass.” 

“What was that?” Crap, had she said that out loud? 

She forced a smile and shook her head, “Nothing. Sorry. It’s good to be back with familiar faces.” Don’t show too much hesitation, don’t back down. Whatever this is, you can get through it. 

The trooper laughed, “Funny. I’ll call the doc back in, see what we need to do. I can get you back to the ship, but they suggest a Bacta tank for a few hours after surgery.”

Desh couldn’t help but chuckle; oh another trip under sounded like a great idea. “That bad huh?” 

When she opened up back to the room her companion was already at the door, his hand hovering still above the keypad. He was at war with himself for a while, and turned with an open mouth, before shutting it abruptly and excusing himself out of the room to fetch the staff.

  
  


~̸̛̘̎~̴̩̰̌̏∆̴̪͋∎̶̡͇̓Ř̵̟1̷̜̍̃ㅫ̵̪̿β̷̟̃͒1̴̞̅⍢̸͚͛̌0̷̹̳͂̏1̵͇̲͗^̴̠͊%̵̧̹̈́^̷͇͆#̵̬̂0̴̪̃∎̶͎̰͊̃0̸̭̀1̶̖̓̾1̴̢̈́≠͈͑͛0̷̣̂̚1̶̰̅͘ͅΨ̶̪͝1̶̖̈́̽0̴͇̼͗̉#̶̰̻̐1̸̣̬̑/̶̨/̶̝͛͜*̴͎̄0̵̬͒0̶̻ㆈ̸̛͖̑1̴̞̥́̋1̴̩͖͒͒∎̵͍͒/̴̛̦̬̿0̸͓̑̑ð̷̠͚̄́1̵͓̏�̵̼̳̾̍�̸̭̏1̷̡̥̇1̷̜̚Σ̴̘̲̊̔0̵̖͗͠+̴̼̗̔͂*̵̲̑*̴̫̩̾̎[̵̯̱̈̓∎̷͈̩̈́∎̵̧̢̉φ̵̝̄0̶̪̀̓1̶̡0̶̦͘▍̸͕̙͑̊~̷̩̫́~̶̛̻

  
  


Technically she was at a Republic base, stationed near the center of a small thriving mining colony; their ‘hospital’ was blended with the civilian one, giving Irene the opportunity to see other races that didn’t shock her as she thought they would. All familiar but so far away. The military staff gave her a basic rundown of her stay, she was able to meet the woman who operated on her, and the team that found her, but she wasn’t paying too much attention. Retaining old information was one thing; her mind didn’t have the capacity to retain more, and the headaches and aches and pains flowed in waves- sometimes strong enough to dull her vision or demand a bucket to throw up. 

Commander Hex and the doctors did what they could for her pain. She still had a lot of physical damage which could repair slowly over time, she would make it to the medical frigate. Internally she would ache for a while, but they had hopes for a full recovery. 

There were too many questions she couldn’t answer, or at least didn’t want to answer. By this time Irene concluded that she felt alien here, and yet so right. This place was a faraway home adrift in the deja vu of a naptime dream. Her memories had details that couldn’t have been replicated or faked. Why would her imagination create such things? She was never truly a creative person, she was more attuned with the sciences or battle plans. Creativity didn’t define her. 

When she thought of the few month gap in her record it only worried her. She wanted to scream, pound her fists against the walls, get up from the damned wheelchair and say _‘I am Commander goddamn Shepard and I do not belong here’_. Lieutenant Desh, however, did not want to do that. Irene had connections here, she had a job, she had friends. 

So what was she to do? 

It could all be a lie, a trick- that’s what the other part of her brain said. For now, she had to play along, keep the other memories around. Distant at arm's length, but around. 

Fives was uncharacteristically quiet during the release, but helpful; he even took the medic droid’s job wheeling her out of the base and helping her onto the shuttle. Irene didn’t have the energy to argue, they could kick her onto the ship and it would hurt just as much.

The colony was a blissfully quiet place; wide open dirt roads with trees walled around like a barrier. It sat at the bottom of a mountainside, casting long shadows in the evening golden glow. It was nice; the air was pleasant, heavy with the smell of rain. Thunder drummed in the atmosphere and far in the horizon. Tall, thin towers stood guard on the top of the canyon; this place must get storms often, they were using them as a power source. 

Stop thinking. She chastised herself; where was the off switch of thinking? If she couldn’t find it soon it was going to be a painful trip to the medical ship. Fives’s shuttle was parked on a nearby landing pad patiently near the market. After some grumbling he took the hint and followed the path along the outskirts of the noisy square to keep her from exploding. 

It felt like hours, but eventually Desh was able to finally give her final thanks to the Commander and his team, before departing into the stars. 

~̸̛̘̎~̴̩̰̌̏∆̴̪͋∎̶̡͇̓Ř̵̟1̷̜̍̃ㅫ̵̪̿β̷̟̃͒1̴̞̅⍢̸͚͛̌0̷̹̳͂̏1̵͇̲͗^̴̠͊%̵̧̹̈́^̷͇͆#̵̬̂0̴̪̃∎̶͎̰͊̃0̸̭̀1̶̖̓̾1̴̢̈́≠͈͑͛0̷̣̂̚1̶̰̅͘ͅΨ̶̪͝1̶̖̈́̽0̴͇̼͗̉#̶̰̻̐1̸̣̬̑/̶̨/̶̝͛͜*̴͎̄0̵̬͒0̶̻ㆈ̸̛͖̑1̴̞̥́̋1̴̩͖͒͒∎̵͍͒/̴̛̦̬̿0̸͓̑̑ð̷̠͚̄́1̵͓̏�̵̼̳̾̍�̸̭̏1̷̡̥̇1̷̜̚Σ̴̘̲̊̔0̵̖͗͠+̴̼̗̔͂*̵̲̑*̴̫̩̾̎[̵̯̱̈̓∎̷͈̩̈́∎̵̧̢̉φ̵̝̄0̶̪̀̓1̶̡0̶̦͘▍̸͕̙͑̊~̷̩̫́~̶̛̻

  
  


Irene sat in the bay with her hands clasped together in thought. So much thought. Too much thought. Unable to cease the human instinct, she rolled with the internal sorting, and the cataloguing, and the wondering against her brain’s cries of protest. One wrong move, one wrong _thought_ and she felt as though everything would unwind in an instant. 

To what? She had no idea. 

She focused on this universe. This time- this whatever. She thought back as far as she could, then people, places, government rules. People she liked. People she hated. They were at war against a droid army. 

Always a fucking war. 

Maybe this was just a nightmare? Or worse: her living hell. Always fighting, always killing and watching others die, never able to stop-

Fives’s voice rang informally, “Desh, come here for a second.” 

Slowly the woman as able to pull herself back to her feet. Fives had poked his head out of an off room with a blue glow, eyes blinking in surprise and near protest at the sight. She stepped in, waving his concern away with a flick of her hand and shutting down the argument. She was back at work. She would not be seen in a wheelchair any longer. Something about pride. Inside the blue glow got stronger, she blinked a few times to adjust, tilting her head away by a few degrees to ease the intensity. The blur receded, and she was coming face to face with more memories, and more ghosts. 

“Irene.” 

“General Skywalker.” His arms were crossed over his chest with the casual air she knew too well of him. By his side was-

_Name’s Rex. But you can call me ‘Captain’ or ‘Sir’_

_You did good child-_

“Captain Rex.” 

If Fives needed the time to process her appearance, then Skywalker did not get enough of a heads up. His eyes almost popped out of his skull at the reveal of her, a mummy walking. Whatever swear word or exclamation he wanted to say, it never came. Even Rex seemed to pale from what little the holograms could give away. Skywalker shook the shock away, hardening his voice to seem normal. “So it’s true. You look…” 

“Like crap. Trust me I know.” Irene attempted to look more relaxed than she was, despite the calming effect of seeing her old friends. Between the three of them, there was maybe an ounce of relief, coupled with…

“We understand you were found in a rough shape; as much as I want you back on the field…” He looked her up and down again trailing the word. “Going to the medical station as advised by Fives is definitely wise.” She nodded to the general in agreement, those pain meds were not sticking around long. He continued, arms dropping to his sides and falling into professional posture. “Do you have any idea what happened? You went completely dark after you left for the inspection.” Anakin was looking at her hard now, she expected as much. 

“No Sir, I remember piloting the shuttle then- nothing.” It was the closest to the truth she could get. She did remember flying the shuttle. She remembered being alone at the pilot's chair listening to the radio, after that was nothing, and no reason to lead to nothing. The subject of another galaxy, another couple years of memories in a place and time not parallel to this one- were things meant to be unsaid at the moment. 

The Jedi and the Captain shot each other a glance, Skywalker breaking the silence once more, “Understood. We’ll see you soon. Get there safe, right Fives?” 

“Of course Sir.” Irene hadn’t realized the ARC trooper was standing so close behind. Probably to be ready to jump forward if she suddenly collapsed. Maybe she was going to collapse any second now. Worst part was she had no idea, and would let the concern on Fives’s behalf slide for now. 

Before they cut communication, Rex shifted where he stood, his hands clasped behind him. His face was always so stoic, but even through dry exhausted eyes Irene saw true relief in his. 

“Welcome back soldier.”


	2. Chapter Two: Revival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its baaaaack.
> 
> So I’m sitting in my house with no power, bored out of my skull and unable to work on T.A.B so I’m thinking “what about this one?” and lo and behold I crank out half of the entire story in a day so now I HAVE to upload right?  
> I’m so excited to show you all the crazy ideas I have for the future with this fic. It’s going to have a bit of a slow start, but once it picks up you’ll be screaming “WHY??”.
> 
> Also Note for future reference: the Clone Wars story will have a bit of event rearranging and minor canon divergence.
> 
> Also also I re-edited the first chapter and added some more details and altered a few conversations. 
> 
> -NN

Irene had to assume Fives wasn’t really sure what to do about her, as if her fragile mind breaking down before him at the hospital confirmed she should be handled with care. Like a vase or something. 

He asked her to sit with him at the controls after takeoff, the medium shuttle crawling its way clear of the atmosphere before jumping to lightspeed. With this newfound awkward silence the two sat in a relative quiet longer than she anticipated. This particular clone was never afraid to speak his mind, that was one of the reasons why they got along so well. She’d crack a joke, and he wouldn’t roll his eyes or stare disapprovingly- he’d sometimes join in the quips. She guessed she needed to initiate. 

“Can you catch me up on what i’ve missed?” It was always the same, something happens, you work on damage control and move forward. She’s been damaged, but she was alive, and here, and she needed to get her head on straight. She probably should take it easy, but what in the world could convince her to just sit and do nothing? It was rhetorical of course. 

The headache started growing again; she pushed it to the side. Why was it suddenly so difficult for her to talk to him? They always joked around, fought with each other well. It might have something to do with her missing only to reappear disfigured with cybernetics strung in her body. __

His voice made her almost jump, forgetting he was right next to her. “Here, this might help.” When had he gotten out of his seat? How slow was she right now? Fives stopped by her still form on the chair, handing her a tablet. She took it on instinct, glancing at the glowing holographic surface. Lines scrolled in organized chaos, enough for her to assume this was his personal datapad. Which meant he was giving her access to all his reports. 

Things she missed. 

“Thanks.” 

But it was a worthless attempt; her eyes couldn't focus. The lines were blurred or striking at her brain like daggers. And when she could see, she couldn’t read.

She literally couldn’t read. The letters kept shifting and changing, and when they were still they were so foreign to her, so alien. It hurt her more to try. Now and then she could see a few scattered familial symbols, but not enough to get through a single report.

A shame because shop talk she could do. Find a problem to fix. Maybe her wires could uncross and everything will fall back into place. Troop movements, vocabulary making a dusty return to her jaded memory, and changes in the world of politics creating a rise in her blood pressure subconsciously. That reaction could just be the heavy medication she was on. 

For now lighter topics. Social circle. 

“The 501st? How are they?” A name popped in her head to give her a joyful spark. “How’s Echo?” The Arc Trooper had a soft spot to Sh- Desh. She could relate to him and Fives starting in a small base in the middle of nowhere, rising to the rank of dutiful soldier. It was odd now that she thought about it; usually with Fives around, Echo is never far behind. 

Fives didn’t answer the question immediately and she knew. His stare out the view into the transition of hyperspace said more than words could, but he was still a soldier first, always. One of his hands were lazily at the controls semi prepared, the other limp on the armrest. Irene twisted the fabric of the oversized maintenance attire offered to her from the base. He didn’t move until he spoke, 

“He was killed in action.” 

Irene closed her eyes and counted to ten. Always the good ones. 

‘Tell me.” 

And he did. The entire purpose of that cruel mission breaking in a high end Separatist Prison was information for a secret route. Of course Echo would go. Fives droned on repeating a near rehearsed report word for word; her eyes staring out into the azure tunnel of light unblinking. She wasn’t there to help them. Maybe if she was there…

“And the information? Has it been useful?” It’s war. People die. It just shouldn’t all be in vain.

He looked grateful to not have to talk about his brother’s death in detail. “Yes and no, it helps when we’ve needed it. The problem is things get thrown our way to where we lacked needing it.” Aggravation seeped in his words, adding on to the bitter memories of losing Echo. She switched gears.

“How’s Ahsoka?” 

His demeanor immediately relaxed, “Commander Tano and the generals recently returned from Zygerria, freeing captured civilians to be made into slaves.” 

She had planned on growling, but from her movements causing pain she only groaned. “The slave empire. Hope those ba-”  _ (batarians) _ “-bastards got what was coming to them.” Well where did that come from? An itch formed in several areas of her body that she couldn’t get rid of. 

“Sure did, although Rex doesn’t gloat as much as Skywalker does. You can still ask him about it.” 

“Rex was there too?” 

“Yep, and uh-” He cleared his throat, “-Ahsoka was playing the part of the slave.” 

Irene let the information sink in, sorting through it carefully to not upset the balance and allow her other memories to consume her. She missed a lot of interesting missions. She wondered how she would have dealt with slavers before going missing. Slavers: no galaxy was safe from pure evil walking amongst men. They should be eradicated.

Easy Sh- Desh, focus on the missions you do know. 

And she did. The first one pops to mind similar to her flight against Batarian slavers: Ryloth.

Ryloth, the people of colonies turned slaves, no- living shields- but the Batarians tortured them- they surely tortured and killed her family-

Mindoir; that was Mindoir, not Ryloth. But it was all the same right? People living their lives getting screwed over by corrupt cruel villains. No one helped Shepard on Mindoir until it was too late, but Desh was able to help the Twi'leks from slaughter.

The droid army took anything it was told to take. Ryloth. Naboo. Thessia. And the fight for more clones; they always wanted more to fight  _ for _ them, not with them. Senators, not counsellors, fight against each other for the war effort. ‘Need more Clones’ because they didn’t want people to have to get their hands dirty, no one wanted to fight the Reapers until it was too late. This was the Clone Wars, Lieutenant Desh was in the Clone Wars, a war taking far too long for her taste- too long. All wars take too long and go on for too long- 

“Wouldn’t it be nice? If people would just help in this fucking war?” She huffed, bringing her knees to her chest as she stared out the viewport. “Why should you guys have to do it yourself?” 

Always beating the weight of the galaxy. Always having to do things yourself because no one would or no one would do it right-

“Desh?” Fives’ voice was quiet, almost shocked. 

Her body ached like it’s been in the same position for hours. “Is it really to much to ask for some fucking  _ help _ ?” Rage of a thousand arguments boiled within her, evaporating as soon as it came. She didn’t want to take it out on him. He certainly didn’t understand what was going on inside her. “Is this war not fucking enough?” 

Fives considered speaking for a moment, as if his original thoughts aren't enough. Whatever he originally wanted to say was pushed aside because his tone changed to a harsh understanding when he did finally speak, “You’d think so.” A moment passed. “Where did this come from?” 

The woman scoffed, “A lot of crap I guess.” 

_ Ah yes. ‘Reapers’...We have dismissed that claim.  _

“But we’ll win this war Fives. I can promise you that.” The words felt so worn down, so overused. A t-shirt ratty enough to retire as a cleaning rag.

“A promise? Really?” 

Shepard turned in her seat to look to her friend, a man she remembered to trust with her life. He was family. And family shouldn’t be slaving over another fucking stupid war. A war against morale-less droids that point and shoot and tear families apart. Whatever the hell had happened, whatever was happening, she was alive, and able bodied, and she was ready to get back in the fight. 

_ The Reapers are just a myth.  _

_ Harbinger speaks of you. You resist. But you will fail.  _

_ So far hope hasn’t been winning this war. It’s been blood, sweat, and more blood. _

_ We just have to beat the Reapers first. _

“Yeah. A fucking promise.”

“Alright then.” The moment was perfect for them to fall into a comfortable silence, but of course things couldn’t be so. “Can I ask you a question?” He looked to her for her silent permission, “Who’s Cerberus?” She looked to him in need of elaboration, struck by the day a clone ARC trooper uttered a word unbelonging here. “Back at Floodline; you asked the Commander if we were Cerberus. Are they a gang of some sort?” 

The deep desire to come clean twisted her stomach in tight knots. How nice it would be to trust so easily. The problem was she did trust him, completely. How could she explain this even in the simplest of terms? It was too soon to confess what she thought was happening; drugged out of her mind, it would not hold in her favor. Information spat from her.

“Try terrorist xenophobic organization.” 

“Heh right- wait what?” 

“Saturated in pro human: get their kicks off of experimental torture and finding the best ways to kill anything by furthering humanity.” Her bones ached thinking about it, or maybe they’ve been hurting this entire time.

“You’re not joking.” The gaze baring into her from the side was a scale up from disbelief, and a scale down of horror. Irene nodded, 

“Nope, but I doubt they’ll come up in any search.” 

“What do you mean?” His eyes were hard now, boring into her like an inspector. Fives was a soldier, not a detective. She knew how detectives worked. 

_ When’s the last time you’ve slept?  _

“Because they don’t exist.” 

“What is happening right now?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re avoiding the questions and subjects, and I don’t think it's because you don’t remember.” His voice was still steady, but the accusations were starting to bleed through. And he was right, she was having a hard time controlling what she had been saying, and there was no way this conversation could be steered away. “Irene. you can tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I don’t think I can.” She stared back out into the colors of hyperspace flying by. Truth. Lie. Complete truth. Somewhat truth? 

Her body flew forward, almost tossing her off the chair as Fives braked out of transit, back in the vastness of empty space. The inertia pulled her forward, scrambling her fragile nerves into flashes of searing pain that locked up her entire body. He had stood from his chair in a huff, his eyes closed and his hands open on the panel in front of him,

“Lieutenant, You were missing from duty for exactly five months. You dropped off the grid with no contact, and no trace. Then we get a call that a lone S.O.S signal had been activated, you were found on the planet by the very base you were sent to inspect. Your body burnt, bloodied, broken. You cannot tell me you are holding back for our own good.” 

“No. I’m not.” She sat up straighter, her jaw tight in both defiance and holding back the wall of pain. “I don’t know what to  _ say _ .” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t know if you will bel-”

The shuttle alarms began to blare in flashes of red. Fives went to the controls. He tensed, “We’re under attack.” 

“From what exactly?” She pushed herself off her chair to her aching feet. The question was answered by the large mass crawling overhead, a large circular ship racing towards them from the side. 

The tension they had melted and was replaced by hard masks. Back to business. Fives’s fingers danced across the terminal. 

“We’re being jammed. Probably not their first time.” 

Pirates. “Can we outrun them?” Judging by the size difference of ships their small shuttle would be disgustingly easy to catch in a tractor beam. Their only chance was to jump out of here.

Their ship rocked again harshly from a missile impact. Fives swore, “They just took out our Hyperdrive!”

Of course they did. He took the wheel and gave it a harsh turn to avoid the next shot. They were certainly being aggressive today. Irene looked out the viewport with the changing scenery. Floating into view was a sphere of pale ochre and pockets of rotting green. This planet was familiar, but no name revealed itself. 

“Fives, where did you take us out of Hyperspace?” 

Fives grunted under the strain of trying to lose the following ship. “I don’t know. The Sertar sector, why?” 

Pirates. Sertar sector. Florrum.

She swore. She was going to kill that son of a bitch.

Another hit; the alarms doubling around them. Irene grappled the back of the chair and twisted her body to look for the controls to the guns. Her vision couldn’t be failing her either: there were no controls. 

There were no guns. Why were they on a ship with no guns?

“Take us in.” She ordered without thinking. “Our shields won’t last much longer.” 

“They hit our autopilot controls, so I can land, just not gracefully.” 

Irene looked to the soldier she knew was no pilot, nothing beyond going from point A to B. She raised an eyebrow, “You can land?” 

Over all the noise of a ship pulling itself apart as they entered the atmosphere she was able to hear a small spark of mystic behind his reply. “I had a little practice recently.” Around them the stars disappeared into swirls of clouds in the new sky. 

Bullets from the Pirate’s ship flew past them as they took evasive maneuvers. Trusting Fives to come through with whatever practice he’s recently had Irene attempted damage control. She still couldn’t read, but tapping wildly at the blinking red warning signs was a start. 

They were coming in hot, the barriers of the shuttle cracking apart and the fires enveloped around them heating the shuttle within. Fives sat down at the controls in full focus; aiming for a dip in a large valley past the mountain ridges. 

They clipped the edge of the mountains, and spun out in descent to the valley, crashing into the ground and smashing their bodies against the helm.

  
  


~̸̛̘̎~̴̩̰̌̏∆̴̪͋∎̶̡͇̓Ř̵̟1̷̜̍̃ㅫ̵̪̿β̷̟̃͒1̴̞̅⍢̸͚͛̌0̷̹̳͂̏1̵͇̲͗^̴̠͊%̵̧̹̈́^̷͇͆#̵̬̂0̴̪̃∎̶͎̰͊̃0̸̭̀1̶̖̓̾1̴̢̈́≠͈͑͛0̷̣̂̚1̶̰̅͘ͅΨ̶̪͝1̶̖̈́̽0̴͇̼͗̉#̶̰̻̐1̸̣̬̑/̶̨/̶̝͛͜*̴͎̄0̵̬͒0̶̻ㆈ̸̛͖̑1̴̞̥́̋1̴̩͖͒͒∎̵͍͒/̴̛̦̬̿0̸͓̑̑ð̷̠͚̄́1̵͓̏�̵̼̳̾̍�̸̭̏1̷̡̥̇1̷̜̚Σ̴̘̲̊̔0̵̖͗͠+̴̼̗̔͂*̵̲̑*̴̫̩̾̎[̵̯̱̈̓∎̷͈̩̈́∎̵̧̢̉φ̵̝̄0̶̪̀̓1̶̡0̶̦͘▍̸͕̙͑̊~̷̩̫́~̶̛̻

“What’s the sitrep?” It wasn’t enough to knock her out cold again, but Irene definitely felt bones shift to unadvisable positions. The noise around her deafened to a high whine; the inside of the bridge sparking with broken panels and a growing fire at the astro-droid ports. 

On her left Fives grumbled something before spitting on the ground, “Our minor inconvenience just became a problem.”

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes Irene fought to her feet again; Fives grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the ship, blocking the growing flames with his armored body. Outside their smoke trail lingered from a twisted track of sharp corners and loops. Irene smiled wryly. “Nice landing.” 

Fives didn’t answer, but did give off a deep sigh instead. After a couple of yards he set her down against the mountainside their ship brushed against. So they crashed on a planet with no communications and no transport. 

Good news was Irene had a plan. 

“We’ll have to pay our attackers a little visit,” She began, double checking the gauze over her body was still intact. “And bargain for a ship.” 

Fives sat next to her with a grunt, pulling out a small canteen to offer to her. She declined for a fraction of a second before he practically shoved it at her. 

She didn’t realize how thirst she was until the cool water blessed her lips. 

“Desh, please tell me its the meds talking.” He took back the canteen for his own drink. “There’s only two of us.” 

“If i’m right, Hondo is here.” Irene looked to the sky as if expecting the ship to have come down to finish them off. “And we have a bit of an understanding. Surely he wouldn’t want to cause more trouble. One small ship could be easy forgiveness.” 

It would take some hard persuasion, but Hondo wasn’t a fool, at least not completely. He’d probably be delighted to see her again. 

“You think a Pirate will listen to you?” 

“I can be pretty persuasive.” 

_ You’re working too hard  _

Screams from the sun of a different color echoed fondly in her memory, a smirk growing on her face. Fives didn’t need to know the details about how persuasive she could be due to her look alone, and hoped the lofty idiot would listen to reason and not cause another war with his men and the Republic. 

She waited for him to counter, and have another plan. His arms rested on his knees, and she waited patiently. Her body was screaming but she could wait for the inevitable. There was no other option; Pirates ruled Florrum and they would run into them eventually. It might as well be on their own terms. And from the way Fives glances at her form the corner of his vision he kept her health in mind. 

He threw his head back and it bonked against the rock wall as he stared at the sky. “Alright, guess we don’t have much of a choice. Can you walk?” 

She answered with a grunt, already getting to her feet. He held out his hand as support, but she ignored it. She wished she had armor- the respect of a soldier was hard to pull off when you’re wearing paper thin clothes. They didn’t have a uniform that would fit her, and due to her condition the best they could do was what long term patients could wear. Unisex adult sized pants and a shirt with velcro holding it together. Combine that with her only exposing skin the bruised bottom half of her face. 

It was not a pretty sight. 

They turned towards the far horizon at another stack of smoke not belonging to their crash. It was a start. 

“Gun.” Irene held her hand out. At her command Fives pulled one of his pistols from his kama and handed it to her, much to the disapproval in his eyes. “Need to be prepared,” she smiled, starting their long walk miles through the wilderness. 

~̸̛̘̎~̴̩̰̌̏∆̴̪͋∎̶̡͇̓Ř̵̟1̷̜̍̃ㅫ̵̪̿β̷̟̃͒1̴̞̅⍢̸͚͛̌0̷̹̳͂̏1̵͇̲͗^̴̠͊%̵̧̹̈́^̷͇͆#̵̬̂0̴̪̃∎̶͎̰͊̃0̸̭̀1̶̖̓̾1̴̢̈́≠͈͑͛0̷̣̂̚1̶̰̅͘ͅΨ̶̪͝1̶̖̈́̽0̴͇̼͗̉#̶̰̻̐1̸̣̬̑/̶̨/̶̝͛͜*̴͎̄0̵̬͒0̶̻ㆈ̸̛͖̑1̴̞̥́̋1̴̩͖͒͒∎̵͍͒/̴̛̦̬̿0̸͓̑̑ð̷̠͚̄́1̵͓̏�̵̼̳̾̍�̸̭̏1̷̡̥̇1̷̜̚Σ̴̘̲̊̔0̵̖͗͠+̴̼̗̔͂*̵̲̑*̴̫̩̾̎[̵̯̱̈̓∎̷͈̩̈́∎̵̧̢̉φ̵̝̄0̶̪̀̓1̶̡0̶̦͘▍̸͕̙͑̊~̷̩̫́~̶̛̻

Talking shop was one thing- being thrown right back into the action was a better upgrade. Irene was surprised it hadn’t happened the second she woke up. 

_ This facility is under attack _

All they could do was move forward, their hike driven by objective, focusing on their surroundings and not the many questions Irene knew Fives still had. But they were professional enough to put the mission first. Get off Florrum and get Irene some fucking morphine. 

When the smoke got closer, noise came with it. Shouting was expected from a Pirate camp, but blasting and explosions- not so much. 

So the plan had another obstacle…

“Sounds like one hell of a party,'' Irene grumbled, taking Fives’s outstretched hand to pull her on top the hill as an overlook. 

The usually quiet (in its own way) rascal base was overrun by a large scale battle. Blotches of moving bodies overcast with bullets of red, the tents and makeshift canopies overturned and destroyed. Next to her Fives raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes. 

“Separatists?” Irene wheezed, trying to catch her breath. 

The trooper hummed, “No....it looks like, more pirates?” He offered the tool to her. She swept the battlefield. 

It  _ was _ his own fighting each other. What the fuck did Hondo do?

A flash of vibrant color in staffs of light caught her attention; far on the other side on another ridge figures flew around each other in offensive and defensive movements. Now those were weapons she hasn’t seen in a while. She tracked one of the blue lightsabers clashing with red, recognizing the armored robes in tans like the desert morning. 

“Is that?” She squinted, “is that General Kenobi?” 

The binoculars were snatched out of her hand in a flash; Five’s stepping forward towards the edge for a closer look to where she pointed. He leaned back in surprise, “It is. Along with General Adi Gallia.” 

The name sparked nothing of her, but two Jedi in one place already meant trouble enough. “Who are they fighting?” She guided herself low to the ground to begin her descent from the ledge. Red sabers meant Sith, but she’s only known Count Dooku leading the Separatist army, being the constant pain in her ass throughout the Clone Wars; along with his attack dog with four arms and the rage of a thousand Krogans, or apprentice Asaj Ventress. Why the hell were there more?

“I recognize the yellow one. He was a recent apprentice to Dooku, but defected- probably to join up with the other one.” 

He followed after her down the wall. Two feet above ground she made a small leap, the force had Irene crumbling to her knees. Her sides were on fire. Fives jumped from his spot and knelt by her side with a hovering hand on her back. “you’re still in no condition to fight Desh.”

She gritted her teeth, “I’m fine Fives.”

A stray rocket hit a bolder meters away from them, causing it to explode. Fives shielded her with his body from the falling rocks. He looked up, then slung her arm around his shoulder. “Fives I’m telling you I’m fine-“

“And as your outranking officer I say shut up.” He growled, leading her off to the side of the battle. The Pirates were circling around each other like some drunken brawl. Wild punches and pistols were more common than anything, and this was the only time a fight could look so sad to Desh. Her vision was getting blurry, and since they were all similarly dressed she had no idea who was who, and how they knew who to fight.

From the heat of battle no one noticed the two foreigners limping in from their flank. Irene chose to shut up because she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. They got closer to the ravaged busted campsite Fives led her around a stack of crates for cover, and that's when the lightsaber battle began to get closer. She looked as far as she dared to investigate the new enemies. The yellow one was of a massive build and horns on top of his head like a visual warning. His attacks were quick, aggressive and unforgiving like his double edged saber. Any hit he took was practically absorbed. 

The red one however.

He was of the same species as his counterpart, except with bulky biotic legs and a different fighting style. His were more precise, refined, and yet fueled by an anger that could only be wielded to destroy, and destroy with a purpose.

The jedi were in over their heads and they didn’t know it yet.

The woman cocked her head out, “Can you contact him?” 

Fives fidgeted with the comm link on his arm for a different channel, “General? Do you read me? It’s Fives.” There was no reply. 

Irene hummed, “Figures.” She looked around in search of the pirate leader for some damned answers. 

“The caverns,” Fives suddenly said, his upper body pulled above one of the boxes. “Might be a good place to find some more artillery.” 

Artillery would be a good idea. They needed something big to help out the generals, and possibly Hondo if he was behaving himself. As much as she wanted to run in immediately to help Kenobi, without a proper plan it was suicide. 

So caverns it was. 

With little help from Fives they began their stealthy retreat behind the two forces. The sound was immediately muted by thick rock on all sides in a dark tunnel behind a broken down door. A striplight was all that lit their way in the echoey chamber. 

When they came across a dead end of storage, it was a decent place to start. The shouting began bouncing off the walls around them. The forces must have had to retreat. 

Most of the crates were filled with bottles and bottles of alcohol and whatever is considered value to stolen shipments. Irene leaned heavily on every single one to try and appear relaxed, not just because it was getting harder to breathe. She was able to lift the lid of a crate and glimpse at the edges of what was within when boots raced up and stopped behind them. 

“Who the heck are you two?” 

“I think he’s a clone.” 

Irene closed the lid and raised her hands as much as her muscles would allow and slowly turned. Fives was already in surrender posture parallel to herself. Pirates all aimed their weapons at them, muttering amongst each other in confusion. 

Irene opened her mouth to answer, but the crowd of pirates or defecto-pirates split apart to let one man forward; his form was less shapely than the others due to a dramatic long coat. He threw his hands up in the air and Desh’s heart sank. 

“Well isn’t this interesting, are you with the traitors too?” Hondo waved his pistol around carelessly, but more than ready to kill them both. His eyes were drawn to Fives and the attire he wore. 

“We’re with the Republic,” Fives stated calmly, “We know Kenobi.” 

Thoughts turned over and over in the man’s skull, joy, confusion, questions, dismissive to all and instead looking to Irene. He looked her up and down unimpressed, or slightly disturbed by her state, before lingering on her face. 

“Do I know you?” He began, taking a step closer. 

Irene tensed every muscle in her body, “Irene Deshpar. We’ve met.”

His eyes lit up. “Ah my friend you have come to help me!” Hondo exclaimed, overly pleased with the development. “Who knew you’d be right behind Kenobi again?”

His excitement gave pause to his men who lowered their weapons slowly and gave Irene permission to drop her aching hands. 

“Not on purpose Hondo,” Irene deadpanned to end the small talk. “We sorta dropped in, just tell us what’s happening.” And she meant it. Just hearing Hondo’s voice made her want to blow up a building. Every-time they crossed paths there was trouble. Every. Time. He was a fun enough guy but he knew how to push her buttons.

The Pirate leader was past asking questions when a literal miracle dropped in his lap. 

“A slight disagreement with my fellow brothers,” He sniffled in dramatics, making it seem far less serious than the massacre outside was. “So...Where's the rest of your army?”

Irene and Fives shared a look. “Standing in front of you.”

Hondo balked, “That's it? That’s all Kenobi got me?”

The man actually had the gall to sound offended. If this was a  _ planned _ drop in assist it would at least be slightly more prepared. 

She still decided to be just a little offended. Her snakiness exploded from within before she could even catch herself. “Why? You want us to leave?” 

The answer she expected was immediate; he pointed a finger at her, thinking twice of his next few words. “I didn’t say that.” 

Submission: she could deal with that. “Good because I have an idea.” She took a step to the side to showcase the crate she had been able to peek in. Fives caught on to what she wanted, and pulled the lid off, kicking the sides for the walls to split open with a  _ thunk _ . “Think this could help?” 

Hondo smiled, “I think that would work perfectly.” 

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Adrenaline was a powerful thing, it was almost a super power that kept people alive and going longer than they should have. It stopped feeling like adrenaline and more like a reserve than anything after some time in the Alliance. Even the fight or flight juice pumping inside of her was wearing off. Irene held her gun tightly as the pirates shuffled the canon down the hallway at Hondo’s command for an ambush. He tried making small talk on how she was and why she looked terrible, but the best part of feeling like death was her looks could answer for her. She was getting incredibly nauseous now, swaying on her feet just the slightest. She would be useless in a fight, especially if the Sith pounced on them now. 

But she certainly wasn’t about to lay down and die. She just needed some more grounding-

“Where are the rest of your men?”

Irene groggily picked her head up towards the wish of silent footsteps coming to a stop in front of Hondo. General Kenobi in the flesh, out of breath and looking less for wear. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. Or fought one. It was like looking in a mirror. 

Hondo gestured towards the men carrying off with the cannon, “They are setting up an ambush. I’m assuming you are too with your reinforcements.” It was then she was hit with another round of tingling and whispers of time unknown. 

_ Hitting the Relay in three...two...one _

It was so real and so close, but no one else noticed it. She bit her tongue to keep conscious. Obi-Wan’s brow wrinkled, not in the mood for games, “Reinforcements?” 

“Sir, I believe he’s talking about us.” Fives stepped forward from somewhere Irene had not kept track of, falling into light parade rest in his view. Irene has never in her life seen such pure shock from the stoic man before. It gave him something to focus on. 

“Fives? What are you- Is Anakin here?” He crossed his arms with a hint of relief and annoyance with the question. Desh felt a spike of pain run up her side and down her leg, causing her to twist upright a little too abruptly, nearly knocking Fives over as he replied. “N-o Sir. I was transporting Lieutenant Desh. Recently back in action. We were in transit when we were attacked and forced to land here.”

“So you can thank Hondo for this actually,” Irene spat not kindly, turning her head enough to make sure the pirate was hearing her words. The man simply took pride in it. 

Obi-Wan, unsure what to do with this information, sighed. “Well I can’t say i’m not glad. I can draw the brothers away; once that’s done blast the passageway closed.” 

Well that wasn’t a great plan. Irene scowled, “It’s suicide, let us help.” She took a step forward and nearly doubled over in pain. Fives was by her side in an instant. She knew he was going to say something to him, but the silence was more concerning of whatever looks they were giving each other. 

_ They came out of nowhere _

“What of the other jedi?” Hondo cut in suddenly, reminding the two Republic troopers of a missing General. 

Irene stood back up with Fives’s help to catch the fallen look on Kenobi’s face. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “She’s...she’s dead.”

The Count was a deadly fighter that commanded respect as well as hatred. If these two could kill a Jedi then they were not to be messed with. It probably was not a good idea to test their true strength head on at the moment. Irene was inclined to go with the flow on this one. Besides, her headache was splitting at this point to a point she didn’t care what was happening. She didn't even hear the conversation continuing.

“She’s de- they are too powerful for even you. I am semi speechless.”

Why could she smell something burning? Something rotting and sick, not the smoke from destroyed campsites. Her nostrils burned and her eyes watered, it was like someone was burning bodies-

A commotion stirred down the many halls of the caves, or were the voices in her head multiplying?

_ I’m going to check it out. I’ll try to catch up with you at the dig site _

“Go! Fives stay with Irene.” 

“Yes Sir!” 

“Asskisser,” Irene groaned, more out of frustration with herself than the good soldier. Another pain cramped, this time in her upper back and calves. She squeezed her eyes shut to compensate. Her body was being dragged in a direction but unsure of which one. 

_ They came out of nowhere _

“Retreat! Retreat!” Hondo cried with the wave of his gun in herding. Irene twisted and made a dash; her feet hitting the floor and her vision turned white with icy pain. The limit she could handle has been reached hours ago, but she just needed to push a little further.

_ We tried to get off a distress call, but they cut off our communications _

Her body crumbled to the ground in a heap, having to energy to even sit back up. The meds were long out of her system, the pain was numbing itself. She couldn’t hold it in anymore, the shock in her body and the throbbing of all her muscles made her empty the lack of contents in her stomach, her ears ringing.

Come on so close.

A deep growl caught her attention, enough to see a flash of Kenobi running the opposite way, chased by saber wielding monsters. Pirates came for them. Still holding a death grip on the gun she raised it to the sky and fired until the clip was empty. Rock crumbled in front of them and trapped them inside this half away from their General. 

The cannon wasn’t far away, the pirates trapped with them were screwed. 

But she couldn’t see the looks on their faces. 

_ Something must have activated it _

_ Activate what?  _

She felt a vague pressure of a hand on her shoulder. A silent voice shouted in her ear. It was just white noise, then a void filled entirely with hellish screams rising from the pits.

“I need a medkit!” Brown eyes not of a soft spoken Canadain looked down at her, “She’s not doing well.”

Irene wasn’t, she was ready to admit it now. Her brain was being squeezed against the walls of her skull, being filled with voices and screaming all the screaming. And she couldn’t stop shaking.

The rest disintegrated from reality. 

Ashy grains shifted together to masses of winding hills of wilting grass beneath a thundering sky. Monstrous claws reached down to pluck the impaled children on spires of sorrow from the garden. 

And everything burned.


End file.
